


Out of My Head

by islndgurl777



Series: give michael guerin a friend 2k19 (make that friend maria deluca) [16]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Introspection, Multi, The Author projects her anxiety and executive dysfunction on her favorite character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islndgurl777/pseuds/islndgurl777
Summary: It’s Saturday morning and Kyle’s been up since 5:30. He’d like to say he did it on purpose, because waking up early with the express intent of going on a run and completing other various errands on a Saturday morning is responsible. Adult-like. A totally normal thing that other late-twenty-somethings do on their weekends.Waking up early because it’s been a shitty night of restless, anxiety-induced sleeplessness, so you might as well get up anyways, especially when that lack of sleep is caused by romantic problems? Not very responsible or adult-y. And he doesn’t think the specific romantic troubles he’s having are ones most other late-twenty-somethings have to deal with either.





	Out of My Head

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know! It's been a minute, and technically, they don't really have the conversation in this one, but I felt like it was good where it ended. Someone else can write triad relationship negotiations because I guess I won't be.
> 
> Beta'd by estel_willow because (as per the tags): anxiety. Title from Fastball.

It’s Saturday morning and Kyle’s been up since 5:30. He’d like to say he did it on purpose, because waking up early with the express intent of going on a run and completing other various errands on a Saturday morning is responsible. Adult-like. A totally normal thing that other late-twenty-somethings do on their weekends.

Waking up early because it’s been a shitty night of restless, anxiety-induced sleeplessness, so you might as well get up anyways, especially when that lack of sleep is caused by romantic problems? Not very responsible or adult-y. And he doesn’t think the specific romantic troubles he’s having are ones most other late-twenty-somethings have to deal with either.

In love with someone? Yeah, sure; that’s pretty normal. In love with two someones? Maybe not as common, though definitely not out of the realm of possibility. Those two someones love each other? Yikes, that sucks my friend. Better luck next time.

Those two someones who love each other (and who you love) also like you and want to date you? He’s still having a hard time computing that one. Thus: he’s up and on a run at 5:30 on a Saturday morning, taking a longer route in an attempt to clear his head. When he gets back, he takes the longest, hottest shower he can, the water pounding the tense muscles in his back until it runs cold. 

It’s been more than three weeks and it’s still not computing. Then again, if he’s being totally honest, which he’s trying his hardest to do lately, he’s put a whole lot of effort into  _ not _ thinking about it.

First, he avoided having the conversation by inviting Guerin to the UNM biomed lecture when he’s sure Liz would have loved to go with him. Which was not a terrible decision in retrospect, because it gave him time to get to know him, and Kyle will never say it out loud, but Guerin’s actually a cool guy.

(Technically, he supposes, he first avoided having the conversation by fleeing--well, no, okay,  _ strategically retreating _ \--to Alex’s to regroup almost as soon as Max and Liz told him how they felt. But that’s just semantics at this point, really.)

Then, he spent almost all of his free time for the next week and a half with Alex and Michael, watching superhero movies under the guise of getting Alex up to speed on the MCU. Which was not  _ totally _ necessary, but it did provide a convenient excuse for his evenings and weekends to suddenly be too busy for him to hang out or meet up with Liz and Max, which had sort of been becoming the norm before.

All of this to say, it’s been a few weeks, and he’s out of reasons he can’t get together with them to have a Conversation, but he’s still not 100% sure of his own feelings on the situation as a whole. Ergo, an anxious night spent tossing and turning and an absurdly early morning jog to loosen up his tense muscles.

He squints at himself in the mirror above his sink as he brushes his teeth, cool water dripping from his damp hair down his neck to wet the collar of his t-shirt. “Ge’ i’ ‘ogeder, dude,” he garbles out around his toothbrush, then rolls his eyes at his own idiocy. He spits and rinses, then leans closer to the mirror. “You can’t avoid them forever.”

Heart pounding, he nods to himself and exits the bathroom, lifting his wrist to check his watch as he does. Not even 7:30 yet. Probably too early to text them on a Saturday, right? So he should just...not text them. And if he happens to  _ forget _ altogether…

A voice that sounds suspiciously like Guerin pipes up in the back of his mind with, “Just text them already, you chickenshit. Pull the bandaid off and get it over with. You’ve already put it off long enough. Dumbass.”

He nods to acknowledge that imaginary Guerin may be right and heaves out a sigh as he pulls his phone out. Before he can question himself or talk himself out of it, he sends the text.

[To: Max, Liz] (7:24 am): You guys busy today?

He puts the phone face down on his bed and leaves the room, letting out a slow breath as he walks to the kitchen.

He makes himself coffee, and as it’s brewing, he takes out some eggs, cheese, and a variety of bright veggies. He takes his time chopping the peppers and onions into precise squares, then he grates the cheese fresh onto his plate. He doctors his coffee to his exact standards and whisks his eggs carefully so they get just the right amount of fluffy. He takes his time cooking his omelette, heating it slowly over the flame and adding small chunks of veggies and cheese at a time to create just the right consistency. It is, without a doubt, the most beautiful and well-crafted breakfast omelette he has ever cooked for himself, but by the time he’s sitting at his kitchen counter, spearing the first bite onto his fork, mouth salivating from the delicious aroma, he is unable to enjoy it.

His heart is still racing, and his eyes keep straying down the hall to his bedroom. His fingers twitch from trying to reach for his phone. Finally, he lets out a combination sigh/groan and abandons his perfect breakfast for the frightening prospect of actually having a conversation with Max and Liz about all of them...being together.

It’s a quick walk back down to his room. He swipes up the phone and checks it as he walks back to the kitchen.

[From: Liz] (7:37 am): Not really. You?

He sighs and closes his eyes, using the edge of his phone to rub hard at the spot between his eyebrows.

[To: Max, Liz] (7:54 am): Same.

This time, the illusory voice belongs to Alex. “You’re an idiot. It’s just a  _ conversation _ , Valenti.” He grumbles but has to acknowledge the point, even if imaginary Alex is mocking him, which really just means he’s mocking himself.

[To: Max, Liz] (7:55 am): Lunch later?

He puts the phone face down next to his plate this time and takes a bite of his eggs. Two bites later it buzzes, clinking gently into his coffee mug, and Kyle starts to cut another bite, but ultimately decides to put himself out of his misery as quickly as possible.

[From: Liz] (7:58 am): Yes. Where would you like to go? We have food here at Max’s…

His eyes widen, because a repeat of three weeks ago does not sound like the smartest plan. Also, he has to take a moment because he figured they were probably together this morning, but Liz confirming it like that… He can’t help but think about them lying in bed next to each other, her phone held up between them as they read his messages, talking over what to type back as they exchange loving glances, the sheet shifting down their bodies as they smile at each other and trade quiet kisses and nudge each other playfully--

He jumps when the phone buzzes in his hand and another text comes in.

[From: Liz] (8:01 am): Or we could go to the Crashdown? If you’d be more comfortable with that?

His first instinct--after he lets out a slow breath to calm his racing heart--is to say yes, because it’s comfortable, and it’s public. Having the conversation at one of their houses feels too...intimate. But he hesitates because the diner is definitely not neutral ground, and this feels like the kind of conversation where they should all have relatively even footing.

[To: Max, Liz] (8:02 am): What time does Maria open the Wild Pony on Saturdays?

It’s not the most neutral, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about having this conversation somewhere Arturo Ortecho could come running out of the kitchen, wielding a giant knife and yelling at him about corrupting his daughter and her boyfriend.

He groans and leans forward to rest his head on the counter, only looking up again when his phone buzzes with her response.

[From: Liz] (8:05 am): Meet you there at 1?

///

The parking lot is empty when he gets there at a quarter to one, and that does not help his anxiety. Still, he walks up and checks the door to find it open, though the sign next to it says they don’t open until two on Saturdays.

Maria’s behind the bar, doing inventory by the looks of it. “Hey,” he says, hovering near the door still. “You’re not open yet?”

She looks up and shakes her head even as she waves him in. “No, but Liz said you guys needed to meet here at one, so I came in a little early to get some things done before I have to clear out for you.”

Kyle groans as he steps up to the bar. “I’m so sorry. I asked her if the bar was open for lunch and she just told me to meet them here at one. If I had known…”

Maria waves off his apology. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll really only have a half an hour though before my openers come in. Will that be enough time for whatever it is you guys need to talk about?”

He sits down and rubs his hand over his face. “I have no idea, but it was never going to be enough time, so don’t worry about it. I appreciate you letting us use your bar though.”

Her eyebrows rise and she puts down her clipboard. “What the hell is going on, Kyle? Your stress levels are ridiculous.”

He twitches and looks at her in surprise. “Liz didn’t tell you?” She shakes her head and he exhales slowly. “She and Max...asked me out?”

There’s a beat of silence before she says, bewildered, “And you’re coming  _ here _ for your date?”

Kyle lets out a burst of laughter and shakes his head. “No, no. They asked, and I said I needed some time to think about it. They gave me three weeks, and now it’s time to...discuss the situation.”

She nods and picks up her clipboard again. “You’re freaking out a little, huh?” He lifts his hand and makes a so-so motion, to which she rolls her eyes. “What’s the deal? You’re not into Max?”

He shakes his head. “No, I am very much into Max.”

She turns her back to him to count the bottles on the shelf behind the bar. “And we all know you’ve liked Liz since high school.”

He squirms in his seat and shakes his head. “Do you have to say it like that?”

She glances over her shoulder at him and says, “Say it like what?”

He shrugs. “Like I’ve been hung up on her for a decade. It’s not like that. Sure, we have a history, but…”

“But what?”

“But,” he says slowly, biting his lip as he thinks of how to say it. “We’re both different from who we were in high school. We are all, actually,” he admits. “It’s like I fell in love with her again, not that I was still in love with her. You know?”

Maria turns back to him and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Valenti. That was smooth, and very romantic.” He shrugs and her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile. “What’s the issue then?”

He lets out a slow breath. “Dating a friend is already fraught with complications. Dating two friends at the same time?” He lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. “Could be disastrous, if it doesn’t end well.”

She shrugs and leans in to rest her arms on the bar. “True, but what if it doesn’t?” At his questioning look she rolls her eyes and clarifies, “End.”

He has no coherent response to that, so he sits and mulls it over while he waits for Liz and Max. Maria’s right. As disastrous as their situation could be if it does end, there is still the possibility of things going well and staying that way. He’d been so freaked out thinking about potential negative ramifications that he’d completely forgotten to consider the upside.

Spending more time with them, together and apart. Date nights. Kissing Liz again. Kissing Max for the first time. Bickering with Max over cupcake recipes, and then having the option of shutting him up with a kiss. Being allowed to reach across the couch and tickle Liz in that spot on her ribs that makes her nose scrunch up even as she laughs and bats his hand away. 

His brain sort of short-circuits when he starts thinking about sleeping with them,  _ together at the same time _ , so it’s probably a good thing Maria throws a towel at his head and says, “Liz’s just outside. I can feel her cautious optimism all the way from here. Get it together, please, and stop thinking all those mushy thoughts. It’s kind of nauseating.”

He whips around on his stool to watch Liz walk in, carrying two bags from the Crashdown. “Hey,” she says, giving him a small smile as she slowly enters the bar. “Hey, Maria,” she nods behind him.

Maria waves and says, “Hey. And that’s my cue to leave. Openers should be coming in a little bit, but I told them to leave you guys alone. Text me later?” Her tone is no-nonsense, and Liz does not hesitate to salute her; a response and a promise.

They face each other again after Maria leaves. “Hi,” he says. His anxiety, which he’s sure had been at record highs for the last three weeks, this morning in particular, seems to be dissipating the longer he looks at her. She’s not wearing the red dress from a few weeks ago, thank goodness, but jeans and a t-shirt. She’s dressed for a casual discussion, not a seduction.

Her smile widens and she tilts her head to a round table nearby. “Want to help me set this up?” She lifts the two bags and wiggles them in front of him. “I left the drinks in the car, but Max can grab them on his way in.”

He snags one of the bags and opens it to pull out napkins and to go boxes. “Where is he?”

Liz opens one box after another and sets them evenly around the table. “We drove separate. I wanted to spend some time with my dad this morning, and Max said he had a quick errand to run.” Following her lead, Kyle places napkins next to the boxes, sneaking behind the bar to grab utensils. As they finish setting the table, she says, “He should be here soon.”

They sit down and Liz says, “Tell me about the lecture. Michael said you guys came up with some new ideas?”

He launches into some of the theories he and Guerin had come up with based on what they heard in the lecture, and a few minutes later, Max walks in carrying the drink tray. “Hey,” he nods to them as he walks over. “Don’t let me interrupt,” he says, passing out drinks and taking his own seat.

Kyle nods, heart racing again, and finishes his explanation. Liz nods along, but his eyes keep straying over to Max, who is fidgeting in his seat. Oddly, his discomfort calms Kyle’s racing heart a little. Finally, he has to take pity on him, so he turns his attention over to Max completely and says, “What’s up?”

Liz turns her attention to Max too, and he starts to blush a little, which Kyle finds wildly adorable. He’s so fucked. 

Max clears his throat and holds out a cylindrical silver canister. “This is for you,” he says, his fingers brushing Kyle’s as he reaches out to take it. 

Kyle looks down at the label and his eyes widen when he sees what it is. Back in med school, he’d frequented a local cafe that had the best coffee he’d ever had the pleasure of consuming. He’d mentioned it to Max maybe once, a few months back, when he was lamenting the coffee he and Liz were forced to drink from the hospital cafeteria. Now here he is, three months later, holding a canister of those coffee beans, courtesy of Max Evans.

“What? How did you...? What?” he says, mouth gaping in shock.

Max shrugs and his blush persists. “I know you really liked their coffee, so I tracked down the location and asked them where they got their beans. It wasn’t too difficult, really.”

Kyle is still staring at him, totally dumbfounded, and Max bites his lip in worry. 

God, he is so. Totally. Fucked.

He smiles and shakes his head. “This is amazing. Thank you, Max.”

Max nods and looks down at his food, lips twitching.

And then Kyle has a thought. “Wait,” he says, the gears turning in his head, and Max looks up at him again. Kyle studies him for a second and says, “Max, is this a  _ courting _ gift?”

Max immediately flushes and says, “Oh my god,” while Liz bursts into hysterical giggles.

Kyle kicks his foot gently and meets his eyes. “Thank you,” he says again, quiet and sincere. Then he looks between them, Liz beaming at them and Max still flushing beautifully, and he says, “How do you guys want to do this?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading/kudos-ing/commenting! Find me on tumblr: islndgurl777


End file.
